


i put a spell on you

by buckthebarnes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellamy is a Gryffindor, Clarke is a Slytherin, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Mutual Pining, the whole Gang is just in the background, these two idiots like each other so much, they're all year 7 except for Octavia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-07-02 20:46:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckthebarnes/pseuds/buckthebarnes
Summary: Taking a deep breath, she leads Slytherin towards center field of the pitch with her head held high, broom in hand, and eyes locked on the crimson robes that sway in the wind in front of her.Waiting for them front and center is the Gryffindor’s Team Captain and Seeker, Bellamy Blake, who also happens to be Clarke’s nemesis since first year.Or: Clarke and Bellamy are both Quidditch captains who can't get along - until they do.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well, well, what's this? Rachel is actually posting a fic? Who would have thought?  
> But yes, it's true, here is my baby. I was watching Harry Potter one day and realized that there aren't enough Hogwarts AU's out there - so I decided to change that. This fic is literally my baby and the first piece of my writing that I'm EVER publishing and I'm so excited for ya'll to read this bright and fun fic. I need to give the loudest shoutout ever to May (@blvke-bellamy) for not only helping me develop the characters/plot but to also edit my atrocious grammar, this fic simply wouldn't be without her and I'm SO thankful I had you by my side to help encourage me to write.  
> I hope you guys enjoy this fic as much as I've enjoyed creating it! xoxo

It’s the first Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, and Clarke is determined to completely destroy Gryffindor. Granted, the weather really sucks. The skies are grey, it’s starting to rain, and it’s windy as hell out. Not the ideal weather conditions for a Quidditch match, but she won’t let that determine Slytherin’s fate.

Clarke and her team are waiting under the stadium to go out onto the pitch. She can hear the rowdy crowds cheer up above and their feet stomp in excitement. She can’t lie, listening to the excitement of the crowd always puts her in good spirits, but she can’t say that for the rest of her team.

Anxiety is prominent in the air around them, and as team captain, Clarke feels like she needs to give them a pep talk.

“So,” she says as she faces the rest of her team, smoothing down her robes. “I know the weather sucks, but we can’t let that dampen our moods. Gryffindor beat us the last time so we need to win it this time.”

She looks out towards her three chasers; Raven, Atom, and Roma. Her beaters; Murphy and Echo, and finally her keeper; Dax.

“And just because you’re buds with Blake doesn’t mean you go easy on him, Murphy.” Raven says, arms crossed and an eyebrow tilt pointed towards him.

“I’ve literally never done that,” Murphy scoffs. “If anything, I single him out more.”

“No one can go easy on _anyone_ ,” Clarke stresses. “We need to win that Inter-House Cup. I’ll be damned if we don’t make it to the semi-finals.”

“We know their weak spots,” she continues, “we’ve been up against them before, we learned from our mistakes from previous games, we got this.”

“Let’s go out and make Gryffindor wish they never set foot on the pitch!” Roma yells, pumping her fist in the air.

“Let’s go Slytherin!” They yell in unison, all joining in with raising their fists.

Clarke hears a shrilling whistle from outside, signaling them to get ready to make their entrance on the pitch. _It’s time_ , she thinks, as she counts down from five.

 _Five...four...three...two...one_.

Stepping out from the stadium, she takes in her surroundings, the wet slide of the grass beneath her feet, the increase in wind as it whips through her hair, and the small drops of rain that fall on her head.

Taking a deep breath, she leads Slytherin towards center field of the pitch with her head held high, broom in hand, and eyes locked on the crimson robes that sway in the wind in front of her.

Waiting for them front and center is the Gryffindor’s Team Captain and Seeker, Bellamy Blake, who also happens to be Clarke’s nemesis since first year.

Determination is immediately set in her bones. She looks to Raven who greets her with a sturdy nod, signaling she feels it too. She can hear Murphy and Roma whooping in the background towards the Slytherin stands as they cheer for their team. The rest of her team is in complete game mode - hard faces with an unwavering strut.

“Captains!” Madam Hooch yells as each team makes it to the center pitch. “Shake hands.”

Clarke marches up to a smirking Bellamy with his hand outstretched, curls whipping in the wind and eyes flashing with confidence.

“Good luck, princess,”

“We aren’t the ones that’ll be needing it, Blake,” Clarke says through a smile full of teeth and gives his hand a hard squeeze before letting go and stepping back.

“Now,” Madam Hooch continues. “I want a fair, clean game, got it?”

The teams nod their heads.

“Mount your brooms, please,”

Clarke swiftly gets onto her new Nimbus 2006 with the rest of her team and the Gryffindors. Hooch blows her whistle and the fourteen brooms are off the ground and up in the air.

They’re off.

* * *

  
It’s towards the end of the match now and both teams are tied at fifty points. The only thing Clarke can focus on is trying to find the Golden Snitch, the cold, hard rain pelting at her face and the voice of Jasper Jordan.

“Miller has the quaffle, he passes it to Shaw, who passes it to Mbege…and it's intercepted by Slytherin!” Jasper’s voice ringed through the speakers. “Reyes is making her way towards the goal post and… it seems like Blake has caught sight of the snitch!”

While Clarke has been desperately trying to block out Jasper’s voice, as soon as she hears him mention the golden snitch, she’s alert.

“He’s zooming around up there above the other players!” Jasper yells excitedly into the microphone.

Clarke whips her head around, trying to locate the familiar crimson robes of one Bellamy Blake. She barely spots him through her rain splattered goggles, and as soon as she sees him she takes off in the same direction.

“Then off goes Griffin! It’s a battle for the snitch!”

There’s a beat, then in hushed tones Jasper adds, “Monty, can you see them?”

“Nope.”

As Clarke fights against the wind and rain, trying to catch sight of the sliver of gold, she faintly hears Jasper yelling, “Alright then, back to the game! Reyes just got intercepted by Miller! Miller is racing towards Slytherin’s goal, and he scores! Another ten points for Gryffindor! The score is now fifty-sixty,”

Hearing this, Clarke feels adrenaline rush through her. The pressure is on. Slytherin is losing – she needs the snitch.

She’s flying as fast as she can, hot on Bellamy’s heals as they both try to catch the snitch. Through the blur of her goggles, she sees the snitch take a sharp right. She follows its path and doesn’t realize that Bellamy didn’t follow.

Clarke is at full speed, only a couple inches away from finally catching the snitch and ending this game. The only problem is, as she’s now realizing, is that they flew higher up from the ground than she’s comfortable with. Her goggles are completely fogged up and she’s still flying as fast as ever.

It shouldn’t be that hard to catch the snitch – just lean forward, fly faster, and reach with all her might.

She feels it ghost her fingers when her vision goes black and she feels a sharp, staggering pain in her head.

“Oh…oh, no,” Jasper mumbles into the mic. “A catastrophic crash! They've fallen off their brooms! Down comes Blake and Griffin!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love a nice, angsty Quidditch match? Come yell your thoughts at me on tumblr (@buckthebarnes).
> 
> Also, leaving comments and kudos helps the writing process go faster. ;)


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter one! We get a look into Bellamy and Clarke's relationship and see how it all went wrong.  
> Hope you enjoy! xoxo

Clarke’s groggy when she first starts to wake up. The first thing that she registers is that her head is killing her and she feels a dull throb coming from her wrist. She slowly blinks her eyes open and tries to make out where she is. She registers that she’s on something comfortable and can faintly smell the scent of lemon and vinegar. Looking around, she sees multiple beds around her. She’s in the hospital wing.

The more alert Clarke becomes, she can recognize multiple voices talking around her.

“Do you think she’ll let me use her broom if she’s out for the rest of the season?”

“Not now, Murphy,”

“C’mon, Reyes. You want that broom to collect dust just because Griffin can’t play?”

“We don’t even know for sure if she can still play,” Raven states. “Also, keep your voice down.”

“She’s right, John,” that’s Emori. “She has a head injury, quiet down.”

A scoff.

Clarke’s fully awake now, not that her friends recognize that. Deciding to make her consciousness known, she adds “Or you all could just shut up for two minutes, that would be great.”

Murphy gives her a smirk. “Sorry,” he says. He doesn’t sound sorry.

Clarke ignored him and looks around, noting that Raven and Murphy are joined by Emori.

“How’re you feeling?” Raven asks, stepping forward to fix Clarke’s blanket. “You really messed up that head of yours. What were you thinking, heading towards Blake like that?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Clarke groans, trying to sit up. “I couldn’t see, my goggles fogged up too much and I thought I was about to catch the snitch, did we at least win?”

Raven smirks and tilts her head towards the table beside Clarke’s hospital bed. Lying there motionless is the golden snitch.

“Holy shit!” Clarke gasps in disbelief. “I caught it? We won?”

“When you and Bellamy landed, you had a death grip on it,” Raven tells her proudly. “We didn’t even know what happened to the snitch until you were brought in here,”

Pride washes through Clarke. Even as she was falling through the sky, she still kept her grip on the snitch.

She attempts to sit up again to reach for the snitch, but when she goes to grab it, a sudden burst of pain shoots through her arm.

“Dammit!” she yells, hugging her wrist to her chest. “What the hell happened to my wrist?”

Suddenly, the doors of the hospital wing open up and the rest of the Slytherin team comes stomping in.

“You really knocked out Blake!” Atom says with a grin as wide as his face as he and the team come to stand by Clarke’s bed. “Jackson is still testing him to see what’s wrong with him,”

Beside him, Dax claps him on the back, “He’ll be out for a while, nice job Clarke.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and shifts, “I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just wanted to catch the snitch,” She takes a pause. “But hurting him was a bonus.”

“You caught the snitch alright,” Echo responds with a brow raise.

Clarke sighs. Even though giving herself a concussion, a hurt wrist, and sending someone else to the hospital wing wasn’t her ideal way of catching the snitch - she still caught it.

The doors open again, this time Jackson walking through.

“Maybe next time you should charm your goggles, so they stay dry,” he notes as he approaches the group of Quidditch players.

“I can do that for you,” Emori suggests as she takes a seat on the side of Clarke’s bed.

“Yeah, okay,” Murphy chimes in. “She’ll end up cracking them, probably.”

Emori is about to retort but Murphy just smiles softly at her, showing her that he was just teasing. This causes Emori to basically melt in her spot on Clarke’s bed, and she rolls her eyes at her friend's playful banter. Murphy and Emori are so cute together it makes Clarke sick.

Jackson is now in front of her and takes his wand out of his pocket and points a light in Clarke’s eye. “Alright, your eyes still aren’t focusing so you still have a mild concussion. I want you to stay overnight just in case, and I also need to take care of your sprained wrist.”

Clarke starts rubbing her wrist, it’s still sore from when she tried to catch the snitch. “How did I sprain it?”

“When you and Bellamy collided, you landed in a weird way that looked like some intense yoga position,” Murphy supplied. “It was nasty.”

Jackson, who’s setting up the bandages to wrap her wrist, rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad,” He carefully wraps Clarke’s wrist, firm and tight. She can already feel the tension drain from her arm.

Jackson gives her a pat on the back. “Look, I have to go check on Bellamy again before I turn in for the night. I’ll be back later to give you your medicine for the wrist, so if you need anything before then, you know how to reach me.”

The team and Emori gave him a salute as he retreats to a room where Clarke guessed Bellamy was still in.

Echo steps forward. “I have to finish my essay for herbology that’s due tomorrow. Good job on catching the snitch.”

With that, she turns on her heels and exits the hospital wing. Dax snaps his head up. “Shit, that’s due tomorrow?”

“Yeah, dude, it was assigned a week ago. Fifteen inches long,” Atom replied, good-naturedly patting his friend on the back.

Clarke tuned them out, not really caring about their dilemma. They may all be on the same Quidditch team and work great together but she doesn’t consider Atom, Dax, or Echo her friends. More like close acquaintances.

She doesn’t even notice when they leave, along with Roma, as she loses herself in conversation with Raven, Murphy, and Emori.

“Professor Pike is literally going to tear my Potions essay apart,” Emori whines. “How are we supposed to write fifteen inches on the properties of Moonstone and how to use it?”

“You can use it in a draught for peace,” Clarke supplies absently as she plays with the bandage on her wrist.

“And love potions,” Murphy says while wiggling his eyebrows at Emori.

“Oh god,” Raven groans. “Can you two stop flirting for, like, two seconds?”

Emori just gives Raven a sly smile as Murphy moves over to her and places a kiss on her head.

They’re interrupted, again, when Wells Jaha burst through the hospital wing doors, looking frantic.

“Clarke!” Wells yells as he rushes to her bedside. “You okay? What happened?”

Clarke smiles at her oldest friend. “I’m fine; just a concussed head and a sprained wrist.”

“She still caught the snitch though,” Emori says, giving her leg a pat.

Wells lets out a huff and rolls his eyes. “Of course, anything to win a game.”

“Damn right, anything to win a game,” Clarke says with a jilt to her chin. “That’s how we win the Inter-House cup.”

“Damn right, that’s how!” Raven declares, giving Murphy a high-five.

After Clarke assures Wells for the _tenth_ time that she’s really okay, he seems to calm down.

They all start to chat about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, mapping out all the places they want to go to when Nathan Miller enters the room with Bellamy’s arm slung over his shoulder.

Murphy leaves Clarke’s bedside to grab his friends’ other arm to haul him over to the bed next to Clarke’s. She takes in Bellamy’s appearance; his curls are messier than normal, and he looks paler. He has a bandage on his forehead and his leg is in a cast.

“What, no crutches?” Murphy huffs as he gets Bellamy on the bed.

“Don’t need them,” Bellamy grumbles as he adjusts himself on the bed.

“Yeah,” Miller scoffs. “That’s why you needed us to lug your ass to the bed, right?”

“Shut up, Miller,”

Clarke can’t lie – she feels a little bad. She may have a concussed head and a sprained wrist, but at least she can walk.

“How’s it going, Blake?” Raven asks.

“Pretty great, Reyes,” He turns his head and smirks at Clarke. “Well, at least I took the princess down with me.”

Clarke raises her eyes. “At least I can walk.”

He rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t have this problem if you watched where you were flying,”

“That wasn’t my fault! My glasses fogged up!”

“It sure as hell isn’t my fault!”

“Oh my god,” Miller groans, pinching his nose. “Who cares? The game is over with.”

Bellamy looks like he’s about to retort when Octavia Blake comes bursting through the doors, eyes wide and frantic.

“Baby Blake!” Murphy exclaims.

“What happened?” Octavia demands as she reaches her brother’s side.

Clarke tunes out the sibling’s as they recount what happened earlier, knowing that if she hears how Bellamy explains it'll set her off.

She chats with her friends some more until Wells decides to leave.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” he promises, fluffing Clarke’s pillow. “I’ll even bring you those strudels you like so much.”

Clarke grins at him and pulls him down for a hug. “You’re the best.”

Emori is the next person to leave, giving Clarke a hug before she parts.

“Get better soon, Clarke,” she says as she fixes Clarke’s blankets from where she was sitting.

As soon as she starts to leave, Clarke see’s that Murphy immediately abandons all conversation with the Blake’s and Miller to go follow her. He doesn’t leave until he’s ruffled Bellamy’s hair and blows Clarke and Raven a kiss, then he’s out the door.

The only people in the hospital wing now are Clarke, Raven, Bellamy, Miller, and Octavia. Clarke isn’t necessarily ignoring Bellamy, but she kind of is. Her head hurts still, and she really isn’t in the mood to fight with him, because that’s all they do. Ever since their first encounter as first years on the Hogwarts Express, they’ve hated each other.

* * *

 

_Clarke hadn’t seen Wells all summer, which was new for her._

_Her mom wanted her to take advantage of the local art programs in the muggle schools, knowing that Hogwarts didn’t provide any. So, while Clarke was creating paintings and jewelry, Wells was away in Texas visiting family._

_Her and Wells had been best friends since they were in diapers and did everything together. They learned how to ride bikes together, climb trees, and learned about the muggle world together. Her mother always disapproved of the muggle activities, she never understood why they both were so interested in them._

_As the summer came to an end, she was beyond excited. Not only to start her first year at Hogwarts but she finally got to see Wells at the train station._

_Clarke and her parents made it to Kings Cross an hour before the Hogwarts Express was set to arrive. Clarke took in the hustle and bustle of the busy train station, frantically looking for Platform 9 and 10._

_“Slow down, kiddo.” Jake huffed as he pushed Clarke’s trolly, him and Abby trying to keep up with Clarke._

_“I need to find Wells!” Clarke exclaimed as she maneuvered through the people. Finally, her eyes caught sight of platform 9 and 10._

_“There! There!” Clarke yelled as she jumped up and down. She grabbed her mother’s hand and ran towards the platform._

_“Slow down, Clarke,” Abby gasped, slightly out of breath from all the running around. “Do you know how to get to platform nine and three-quarters?”_

_This made Clarke pause because she did not in fact, know how to get there._

_“No,” she pouts._

_“Here’s what you do,” Jake says as he crouches down to her level. “You take your trolly, and run straight at the barrier.”_

_“Don’t worry about crashing, alright?” Her mother says softly, smoothing Clarke’s hair down._

_“Okay, so just run towards the middle?” Clarke clarifies._

_Jake smiles and stands up. “That’s it.”_

_“What about Binx? Will he be okay?”_

_“Binx will be just fine, sweetie,” Her mother assures. “Are you ready?”_

_Clarke bends down to look at Binx and pets his tiny, black head. He meows in response. “Yeah, let’s do this.”_

_Clarke stands behind her trolly and takes a deep breath._

_Running start. Aim for the middle of the barrier._

_She starts off slow, then gains momentum when she’s closer to the barrier. Clarke shuts her eyes as her trolly is about to make contact with the brick, but the crash never happens._

_She opens her eyes and gasps. Looking around, this platform is even more crowded than the muggle one. She feels a hand on her shoulder and looks behind her to see her father smiling at her._

_“Pretty neat, isn’t it?”_

_“Yeah,” she whispers, still taking in her surroundings._

_The Hogwarts Express hadn’t arrived yet, so everyone was standing by the platform waiting for its arrival. It’s basically just a sea of people, which makes it really difficult for Clarke to locate Wells._

_“I need to find Wells!” she stresses to her parents._

_“I’ll try to go find Thelonious,” her mother tells them. She grabs hold of Clarke’s trolly and emerges into the crowd._

_“Dad,” Clarke whines to Jake. She knows her mother isn’t really looking for Mr. Jaha, she’s off to go find her other friends._

_Her dad just laughs and ruffles her blonde hair. “Let’s go find Wells.”_

_Clarke cheers and dives right into the crowd, head whipping around frantically for the familiar face of her best friend._

_“Wells!” she yells out, hoping that her friend can hear her amidst all the noise._

_She searches to the left of the barrier and no signs of Wells anywhere, and when she goes to search the right side of the barrier, she hears the train whistle._

_“Dad!” Clarke practically cries. “I can’t find Wells!”_

_“It’s alright, kiddo,” he reassures. “Let’s find your mom, okay?”_

_Clarke just nods her head and feels her eyes start to water. What if he wasn’t on the platform? What if he wasn’t going to Hogwarts this year? Where was he?_

_Jake takes Clarke’s hand and leads them to where her mother disappeared. She’s still looking around for Wells in hopes that he’s in the crowd somewhere._

_“Ah,” Jake sighs. “See? There they are,”_

_He points to where Abby and Thelonious are talking, right by the edge of the platform. Next to Thelonious is Wells._

_Clarke doesn’t even yell, she just barrels herself right into him and hugs him with all her might. He laughs happily and returns her hug with just as much force._

_“About time you showed up,” he teases, still holding onto her._

_“I tried looking for you!” she defends, releasing him from her death grip and frowns. “You’re tall now, taller than me,”_

_“I know,” he boasts. “I grew like, two inches this summer.”_

_She’s about to respond, but before she can she sees a blinding light starting to emerge from the tunnel._

_“It’s here!” she shrieks._

_“Do you have everything you need?” Abby asks as she runs her hand through Clarke’s hair, detangling some curls._

_“Yes, mom,” Clarke whines impatiently. She’s been looking forward to this train ride all summer._

_“Your wand?” Jake supplies._

_She pats her robe’s pocket._

_“Your galleons for the ride?”_

_She nods her head frantically._

_“Binx has his toy mice?”_

_“Yes, mom!”_

_“Okay, okay,” Abby sighs. She plants a kiss on Clarke’s forehead and sniffs a little. “Be careful, okay?”_

_Clarke rolls her eyes. “Okay.”_

_Jake get’s down on one knee so he’s level with Clarke. “Now remember, no matter what house you’re sorted in, we’re so proud of you.”_

_He pulls Clarke into a hug just as the Hogwarts Express pulls up to the platform. She hugs Jake with all her might, knowing she’s going to miss her dad dearly._

_“I love you,” she mumbles into his shoulder as she squeezes._

_“I love you too, kiddo,” he replies as he squeezes her back._

_She feels a hand touch her shoulder. “It’s time to board, sweetie.”_

_Clarke reluctantly let’s go of Jake and grabs Binx’s carrier off the trolly. She gives her parents a bright smile, her excitement for the adventure she’s about to go on evident._

_“I’ll write every week and tell you guy’s everything,” she promises._

_“We can’t wait,” Abby says tearfully. Jake puts his arm around her, hugging her to his side._

_“Every week, got it?” he asks._

_“Got it!” Clarke says giddily. She can see that Wells has said his goodbye to his father and is waiting for Clarke. She hugs Binx’s carrier to her chest. “I’ll see you at Christmas time! I love you guys!”_

_She doesn’t stay to hear her parents responses, just ushers Wells onto the train, who also has his pet owl Stanley with him._

_“Let’s find an empty compartment,” she tells Wells._

_They pass compartment after compartment, filled with students. Clarke is starting to lose hope that her and Wells can snag an empty compartment when she passes by one._

_“Here we go!”_

_She takes one side, sitting down and placing Binx on her side. She opens his cage door, letting him roam freely for the trip. Wells sits across from her and hooks Stanley’s cage up on a hook. As soon as they’re settled, Clarke is eager to know everything Wells did this summer._

_“How was your family?” she asks._

_Wells shrugs his shoulders. “Good, I guess. My Aunt Jenny is a really good baker so she made a lot of desserts.” he pauses and smiles at her. “I was bored though, didn’t have a blonde menace getting me into trouble.”_

_Clarke scoffs. “Please, you get us into trouble sometimes,”_

_Binx decides to curl up on her lap, purring happily. She strokes his smooth, black fur as they bicker for a few more minutes before Clarke gets into telling Wells everything she’s learned over the few months. She can now paint with watercolors and not make it look like a blob of colors, can sketch with charcoal, and even started to learn how to do pottery._

_Wells is in the middle of a story about how his dad had an encounter with what muggles call a skunk before there’s a knock on their door._

_Clarke looks to see a boy with freckles and wild, curly hair standing by their door, looking sheepish. She also spots another boy behind him._

_“Is it cool if we sit in here?” he asks. “There literally isn’t any other seating.”_

_Before Clarke can even respond, Wells is getting up and moving Stanley to the hook that’s on Clarke’s side and takes a seat next to her. The two boys shuffle in the compartment and get adjusted on their side of the seats._

_The boy with the freckles is the first one to speak. “I’m Bellamy, and this is Nathan.”_

_“Miller,” the boy next to Bellamy supplies. “I go by Miller.”_

_Wells waves at them. “Wells.”_

_“I’m Clarke,” she says as she pets Binx. “This is Binx,”_

_Hearing his name, Binx’s ears perked up as he took in the compartments new companions. He jumped off of Clarke’s lap and started rubbing against Miller’s legs._

_“Can I pet him?” Miller asks tentatively._

_Clarke nods her head. “He really likes his ears and chin scratched.”_

_While Miller is transfixed on Binx, Wells started a conversation with Bellamy._

_“What house do you wanna be sorted in?” Wells asks him._

_“I think I’d like to be in Gryffindor,” Bellamy responds. “But, anything would be better than Slytherin.”_

_That grabs Clarke’s attention. “What do you mean by that?” she bites out._

_“They’re all a bunch of stuck-up, purebloods who look down on the rest of the wizarding community,” he levels her with a look. “That’s what I mean by that.”_

_Clarke is fuming, how dare he? How can he just make assumptions based off of accusations that may not even be true?_

_“For your information,” Clarke starts. “My mother and her family were all Slytherin, there’s nothing wrong with that house.”_

_“Is that so, princess?” Bellamy sneers._

_“Princess!?”_

_“Dude,” Miller says to Bellamy in an even tone, still petting Binx. “Knock it off, the year hasn’t even started yet and you’re already pissing people off,”_

_Bellamy snaps his mouth shut, and it’s awkwardly quiet in the confined space. The only sounds are coming from Binx who’s purring away and the little hoots Stanley makes every now and then._

_Clarke has her arms cross and is burning a hole into the worn carpet of the compartment, Wells is staring out the window trying to come off as relaxed, and Bellamy has his head leaned back against the seat with his eyes closed._

_Her plan to catch up with Wells has crashed and burned, which adds more fuel to her fire._

_“You aren’t even going to apologize?” she questions, looking right at Bellamy. He lazily opens his eyes to look at her, then closes them again._

_“I’m good.”_

_Clarke just gapes at him and looks to Miller, who just shrugs and continues to pet Binx. She goes back to staring a hole in the floor when Wells clears his throat._

_“What house do you wanna be sorted in?” he asks Miller._

_“My whole family is Gryffindor, so probably that,” he shrugs. “If not, Hufflepuff wouldn’t be a bad option either.”_

_Wells nods and looks towards Clarke. “How about you?”_

_She has to take a second and think of her answer. Of course, she’s thought of it before, especially in a family full of purebloods. Her mother was a Slytherin and her father was a Gryffindor, so she would be happy to be in either._

_She can feel Bellamy’s eyes on her, and she can’t help that she’s feeling a little spiteful at the moment._

_“Slytherin.” she challenges, looking right at Bellamy._

_It’s another moment of silence before Miller speaks up. “What about you, Wells?”_

_“Oh,” Wells says, like he didn’t expect to get asked the question. “Honestly, any house would be great but I feel like I’m more of a Hufflepuff,”_

_Miller and Bellamy both nod, like they approve of his answer._

_As for conversations, that’s the last of it until the train arrives at Hogwarts. What was supposed to be a fun and exciting train ride had been completely ruined for Clarke by Bellamy, so she isn’t really sharing the excitement with the other first years as they unload from the train and go to board the boats._

_“You okay?” Wells asks her as they sit side by side on the boat._

_Clarke shrugs. “Bellamy just really ruined my mood,”_

_Wells puts a sympathetic arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. “Whether you get sorted into Slytherin, Gryffindor, or any other house, you’re still Clarke Griffin. You’re gonna be the best witch of our age by the time we’re seventh years, don’t let Bellamy make you second guess that.”_

_Clarke smiles and leans her head on his shoulder, feeling grateful as ever that she has her best friend by her side. “Thank you.”_

_The castle comes into sight, and Clarke can hear all the gasps around her. Even in the moonlight, the castle just looks beautiful - like everything she imagined it would be._

_The first years started to get escorted off their boats and lead to the castle, where they’re greeted by Indra Porter, professor of Transfiguration._

_“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she greets in a steady voice. “The sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes. While you are attending Hogwarts, your house will be like your family. You all will share not only the same dormitory but share the same classes._

_The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. While you’re here at Hogwarts, you can earn and lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the house cup._

_Please, in anticipation of the Ceremony that will be held in front of the whole school, smooth your robes. I’ll be back when we’re ready for you.”_

_Clarke takes a deep breath. In a few short moments, the Sorting Hat will decide her fate for the next seven years, which spikes her anxiety greatly. Apparently, not for Wells._

_“Clarke, I can’t wait,” he tells her excitedly as he looks around the room at the other first years. “I’ve been waiting to get sorted ever since I can remember.”_

_Clarke just smiles and nods at him, not trusting herself to speak in case she throws up on him instead._

_Wells continues to ramble excitedly next to her, as do the other students, but Clarke tries to tune them out. She tries to remember her father’s words, that he and her mother would be proud no matter what house she was sorted in. Tried to remember the pep talk Wells gave her on the boats, that no matter what house she’s sorted in she can and will do great things._

_A minute or two passes before Professor Porter returns._

_“We’re ready now, please follow me in a single-file line.”_

_Everyone starts to scramble to form a line behind her and Clarke gets elbowed at least twice. Wells is behind her and for some reason, she tries to find Bellamy and Miller in line. She can’t find them in front of her, but before she can turn her head around to look back the line is moving._

_Taking another deep breath, she follows the line through the door and into this massive room. The Great Hall, if she remembers what her father told her correctly. She looks up to see the floating candles and the ceiling that’s bewitched to look like the night sky. She looks around at the four long tables that fill up the Hall as she walks down the aisle, and looks at the line of professors that sit at ahead of it all._

_Once they reached the top of the Hall, Clarke could recognize the Sorting Hat and the stool it was placed upon._

_Professor Porter motioned for them to stop in front of the stool and made her way next to it._

_“When I call your name, please come and take a seat. I will then place the hat on your head and you will be sorted into your house.”_

_Professor Porter stepped forward and pulled out a long piece of paper._

_“Blake, Bellamy.”_

_This had Clarke perking her ears up. She watched on as Bellamy straightened his robes one more time and stepped forward to take a seat on the stool. Professor Porter took the Sorting Hat and placed in on Bellamy’s head. The hat barely touched his head before it shouted “GRYFFINDOR!”_

_The Gryffindor table all erupted with cheers as Bellamy shuffled to his new table. Clarke could care less, but a horrible thought popped into her head. What if whatever house she was sorted into didn’t cheer for her when she was sorted? What if no one wanted her? Before she could think further, Professor Porter announced the next name._

_“Green, Monty.”_

_“RAVENCLAW!”_

_“Wilson, Emori.”_

_“SLYTHERIN!”_

_Clarke looked to see that the Slytherin table, much like the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, all cheered for their new house member. Maybe they would cheer when it’s Clarke’s turn._

_“Jordan, Jasper.”_

_“RAVENCLAW!”_

_“Murphy, John.”_

_“SLYTHERIN!”_

_“Miller, Nathan.”_

_“GRYFFINDOR!”_

_Clarke watches as Miller practically runs to his house and envelops Bellamy into a hug as the other Gryffindors pat his back in a congratulatory kind of way. Even though Bellamy was an ass to her, she’s glad that Miller was able to be sorted into his first choice._

_“Shaw, Zeke.”_

_“GRYFFINDOR!”_

_“McIntyre, Harper.”_

_“HUFFLEPUFF!”_

_“Reyes, Raven.”_

_“SLYTHERIN!”_

_“Wells, Jaha.”_

_Clarke’s heart skipped a beat as she looked at he best friend, who looked so incredibly nervous and excited at the same time. Wells looks at Clarke and gives her a ‘this is it’ kind of look, and she returns it with a thumbs up. She knows that no matter what house Wells gets sorted into, he’ll fit in._

_Wells walks up to the stool and takes a seat. The Sorting Hat is placed on his head, and it pauses. Clarke swears she forgets how to breathe, because this is it. This is what they’ve been waiting forever since they knew Hogwarts actually existed._

_Finally, after a moment's pause, the sorting hat screams: “HUFFLEPUFF!”_

_Clarke can’t help but cheer for her friend as he goes over to his house and is welcomed with open arms. She’s so happy for him she isn’t even worried about her fate anymore._

_“Woods, Lincoln.”_

_“HUFFLEPUFF!”_

_“Griffin, Clarke.”_

_Now, she really isn’t breathing. She feels kind of frozen on the spot and wishes nothing more that she still had Wells by her side. Professor Porter shoots her a stern look, and Clarke takes it as her cue to suck it up and sit on the stool._

_When she sits on the stool, she looks into the crowded room of students. She see’s Wells at the Hufflepuff table, giving her a reassuring thumbs up._

_The hat is placed on her head, and her heart skips a beat. Her palms are starting to sweat and her legs feel jittery. She has no idea where she belongs, no idea how the hat will sort her. It feels like she’s been up there for hours when the hat finally yells: “SLYTHERIN!”_

_She lets out a breath, one she didn’t know she was holding in the first place. She sees that the Slytherin table has erupted into cheers, like every other table. Even the first years are whooping and hollering as she makes her way over to her house. Her home for the next seven years._

_She looks for Wells and finds that he’s already found her giving her a huge smile. A huge smile letting her know that he’s happy for her, even though they aren’t in the same house. She returns the smile, but her eyes land on someone else._

_Bellamy Blake is sat next to Miller at the Gryffindor table, looking at her. The only word Clarke can describe his look is disgust. Clarke levels him with a glare - he has no right to look at her this way. She was nothing but polite to him on the train and despite his thinking of Slytherins, Clarke doesn’t care about blood status or any of that nonsense. It just irritates her that he judged her without speaking to her for more than five minutes._

_Clarke decides to ignore him and introduces herself to some of the other first years: Raven, Emori, and Murphy._

_Despite her worries, she has no doubt that she belongs with Slytherin._

* * *

 

Thinking back, if she and Bellamy had gotten off on the right foot, they could have been friends. She isn’t blind, she sees that all of her friends are friends with Bellamy, it’s just her and him that don’t seem to get along.

Octavis starts to stand up when Jackson comes back with two bottles in his hands and goes to stand between Clarke and Bellamy’s bed. “These are for your injuries, you need to drink the whole thing.”

“I have to go,” Octavia tells Bellamy. “I’ll be back in the morning, love you!”

She smacks a kiss to Bellamy’s cheek and skips away without waiting for him to respond.

Clarke takes her bottle and inspects it. It’s not that big, but when she goes in to sniff it she immediately gags. “What the hell is that?”

Jackson gives her an apologetic look as he hands Bellamy his bottle. “This is skele-gro. It helps heal broken bones and it’ll definitely take care of that wrist, it’s just really repulsive.”

Bellamy sniffs his as well and groans. “Is there any other way to fix my leg?”

Jackson shakes his head. “Not if you want to keep playing Quidditch.”

Clarke looks down at her bottle in distaste. She can’t pinpoint exactly what makes this potion smell so disgusting, but it definitely is rotten and has something to do with fish.

“Bottoms up, Griffin,” Raven says as she pets Clarke’s hair soothingly.

She peaks over at Bellamy, who has the same look of disgust on his face.

“Together?” she asks.

He scoffs. “After you, princess.”

Clarke just rolls her eyes. No matter how many times she attempts to just be civil towards him, he throws it back in her face.

Clarke brings the bottle to her lips and silently prays that drinking this won’t make her puke her guts up. She closes her eyes and downs the bottle like a shot. She has to keep her hand over her mouth or she will spit he Skele-Gro out.

It tastes just as bad as it smells: rotten and fishy. It’s singlehandedly the most disgusting thing she’s ever tasted, and it burns all the way down her throat. It burns so badly that she begins to have a coughing fit, in which Raven starts to pat her on the back repeatedly.

“Take it easy,” Bellamy says as he looks at her with a glint in his eyes.

“We’ll see how you do,” Clarke challenges as she wipes her mouth. “Miller, get a bucket ready for him.”

Miller doesn’t respond but does smile slightly at her, which is a win for her. Due to him and Bellamy being best friends, Clarke never really talked to him. She can feel a slight burn in her wrist, but it only lasts a second. She flexes her fingers and finds that her hand isn’t in pain anymore. _Finally._

“How’s Binx?” Miller asks.

This startles a laugh out of Clarke. “He’s good, still needy as ever,”

They’re interrupted by the intense coughing fit by Bellamy.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I know, I know,” Jackson says as he collects the empty bottles. “That’s not the hard part, though. When the bones in your leg start to heal, it’ll feel a lot worse.”

Clarke studies Bellamy’s face and notices his jaw is clenched shut, probably already feeling the effects of the Skele-Gro.

“I’m done for the night,” Jackson adds as he gathers his things. “Your leg should be healed in no longer than two hours, if it’s past that have someone come get me.”

Bellamy can only jerk his head as Jackson leaves the hospital wing.

“So you finished that potions essay?” Raven asks Clarke as she sits down on the end of her bed.

“Almost,” Clarke says. “I just have to research the properties and put the whole thing together.”

“We can do it together, because I cannot for the life of me find any of its properties,” Raven whines as she takes out her notebook. “All I have is that it varies in color but has a milky look to it and emits its own light.”

“That’s more than what I have,” Clarke sighs.

Raven also sighs. “Even if this moonstone had hundreds of properties, how are we supposed to write fifteen inches?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke shrugs. “We’ll just have to go into detail on how to make the potions it’s in, I guess.”

“Or,” Bellamy bites out, interrupting them. “You could do your work in silence.”

His eyes are still closed and his face looks tense, no doubt in a lot of pain. But still, it’s not like Clarke and Raven are shouting at each other.

“Or,” Clarke retaliates. “You could just let us do our work in peace.”

“It’s not my fault you procrastinated the essay.”

“Well, it’s your fault that I’m stuck in the hospital wing where I could be doing this work from the comfort of my room.”

This makes Bellamy snap his eyes open. “How the hell is it my fault that you’re here? Maybe if you looked where you were flying more often, we both wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Maybe if you were better at Quidditch, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

He pauses to gape at her. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be at St. Mungo’s so mommy dearest can treat your little sprained wrist? The princess has to be treated like the rest of us?”

That comment made whatever Clarke was going to say disappear. Now, out of all the Bellamy insults, she’s heard over the past seven years, this by no means is his worst one. Unfortunately, there’s a sore spot in her relationship with her mother at the moment and it strikes a chord within her.

She takes Raven’s notebook and begins to write down the directions on how to brew love potions. She’s afraid if she speaks or even looks at Bellamy, she’ll burst out crying, and that’s one thing she will never show Bellamy Blake as long as she’s alive - vulnerability.

“What? Problems at home with mommy?” Bellamy barks at her. She grips the pen she’s holding tightly, her knuckles going white. She doesn’t know whether she wants to cry or hex him, but before she can decide Raven jumps in.

“Drop it, Blake.” she says in a stern voice and levels him with a glare. Clarke hears him scoff as she continues to write down the love potion notes.

It’s awkwardly quiet in the room now. Clarke and Raven are still working on trying to find why moonstone works well with the draught of peace and love potions. She can faintly hear Miller and Bellamy talking, but she’s trying to tune Bellamy out as much as she can.

“Hope your wrist feels better, Clarke,” Miller says as he gets up from his seat at Bellamy’s side and fist-bumps Raven on his way out. “Reyes.”

“Nate.” Raven responds, too busy focusing on the paper in front of her.

“God,” Clarke complains as she rubs her eyes tiredly. “We’ve been at this for an hour, Ray. Let’s just take the fall on this one.”

Next to them, Bellamy clears his throat. “Still need help with the properties?”

Clarke refuses to make eye contact with him, so Raven is the one to respond. “Yeah, what do you know about it?”

“It gives you a sense of emotional balance,” Bellamy supplies, which makes Raven squint at him.

“That’s it? It just gives someone emotional balance?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “That’s why it’s the main ingredient in the draught of peace.”

“Why didn’t you say that before?” Raven snarks as she writes down his answer.

“Sorry,” he rolls his eyes. “Must have been too busy healing my broken leg.”

Raven doesn’t respond, just gathers the scatter of papers her and Clarke created.

“I need to go write this up and take a shower,” Raven says as she shoves the papers into her bag. “I’ll come back with Wells in the morning, try not to tear Blake’s head off.”

She blows Clarke a kiss and like that, she’s gone.

Now, it’s really awkward. But it’s cool, Clarke can totally handle this. She’s handled way worse. This awkward silence is nothing like the time she was dating Finn Collins and all of a sudden his girlfriend shows up from Ilvermonry one day, this is nothing compared to that. This isn’t even as bad when said girlfriend turned out to be Raven Reyes who turned out to be Clarke’s best friend. Clarke has been through worse than a couple minutes of awkward silence.

“So,” Bellamy says, voice gruff. “I’m sorry about the comment I made about your mom, that was out of line.”

Clarke was lying, she totally _cannot_ do this.

She decides not to respond, even though this is technically the first thing Bellamy has ever apologized before, she just doesn’t want to talk about it.

He sighs. “C’mon, Clarke. I said I’m sorry.”

She leans her head back and closes her eyes. “It’s fine, Bellamy.”

There’s another minute or two of silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

Now it’s Clarke’s time to sigh. “What now, Bellamy? I’m tired.”

“Why did you shut down when I brought up your mom?”

Clarke peaks an eye at him. “Why do you care?”

Bellamy shrugs. “Just curious, I guess.”

Clarke takes a minute, trying to decide on how she’ll answer him. Obviously, she won’t get into the gritty details of her estranged relationship with her mother. But how much does she tell him without giving too much away?

“We just aren’t on good terms,” is what she settles on.

He doesn’t respond, just nods his head. Before he can ask her any more questions, Clarke turns on her side with her back towards Bellamy. Today had been a long day for her, so sleeps comes easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh, so now we know. As always, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I have enjoy writing it!  
> Comments + kudos fuel me so make sure to leave them! xoxo
> 
> My tumblr is buckthebarnes in case anyone wants to yell at me about the chapter!


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After ten million years, here's chapter two! I unfortunately had to put this fic on the backburner as I try to knock out my last year of college, and I'm really sorry about that - so sorry that I'm delivering a monster chapter of 5.6k of words as an apology!!!!!! pls accept!!!!! In this chapter we get to dive into Clarke and Bellamy's relationship and start to see some bonds form, I hope it was worth the wait! xoxoxo

The potions classroom was unseasonably chilly, even for the month of November.

Clarke dodges the litter of students on her way to the front of the room where she and Raven share a table. She spots her already sat down writing notes as she pulls her robes more tightly around herself as bustles through the crowd.

She’s almost at the front of the room when she feels something hit her head. She frowns down at the ground to see what just hit her - a paper airplane. 

“Are you even trying to win, Emori?” Murphy grumbles as he jogs over and picks up the plane.

“Sorry,” Emori says as Clarke joins Murphy. “John and I are in competition with dumb and dumber over there to see who can throw the farthest plane.” She juts her thumb towards Zeke Shaw and some Gryffindor who’s name Clarke can’t remember.

“It’s all good,” Clarke shrugs. “Have you guys tried the ventus jinx?”

Murphy pauses. “The  _ what _ jinx?”

“You’re right!” Emori exclaims, eagerly grabbing Murphy’s robes and yanks him along with her. “C’mon, John.”

With that, she drags a confused looking Murphy back to their table. Clarke shakes her head and finally makes it to Raven. 

“Could it get any colder in here?” Clarke whines as she takes her seat next to her friend.

“It’s not even December,” Raven huffs as she takes out her books for class. “Remember last year when it first snowed? I thought Shaw was gonna get frostbite.”

Clarke smirks. “Yeah, a missed opportunity to help him warm him up.”

Raven just rolls her eyes. “Shut up, Griffin.” 

Clarke can see the faint blush on her cheeks, though. She looks at the blackboard to see what potion they’ll be starting today.  _ Felix Felicis _ . 

As she jots down the ingredients they’ll need to brew, she nudges Raven. “Seriously, why don’t you just ask him out yourself?”

_ Ashwinder egg, squill bulb, powdered common rue… _

“Because,” Raven sighs. “We’re graduating soon, what’s the point?”

“The  _ point _ is, is that you like him,” Clarke says simply as she turns to face her. “Just because we’re graduating shouldn’t mean that you deny yourself of things. Wouldn’t it be better to try it out instead of sulking for the rest of the term?”

Raven is about to respond until Professor Pike walks into the classroom, followed by Bellamy and Miller. Much to Clarke’s dismay, Slytherin and Gryffindor share the class this year.

Even more to Clarke’s dismay, they sit at the table right next to her.

“How’s it going, Princess?”

She sighs. Ever since their shared night in the hospital wing that one time, things have gotten better. Instead of his Princess’ having a mocking undertone, they now have a light-hearted teasing one now. They aren’t friends, per say, they just have a slight understanding of each other now. 

“Going great, Blake,” Clarke responds absentmindedly as she finishes writing the Felix Felicis ingredients. 

“Alright,” Professor Pike says as he claps his hands together. The whole class takes their respective seats and the chatter dies down. “Today, we’ll start the brewing process of Felix Felicis - who can tell me it’s other name?”

Clarke’s hand shoots straight up. If there’s one subject she excels at, it’s Potions. Professor Pike nods at her, signaling for her response. 

“Liquid luck.” 

“Correct, ten points to Slytherin.”

She sends a smirk over to Bellamy because while they may not be as mean to each other anymore, she still loves a little competition.

“Now,” Pike continues, “who can tell me at least two important details about it?”

Clarke’s hand shoots right up again, but so does Bellamy’s.

“Mister Blake.”

“It can cause extreme recklessness when overused and if you take too much of it, it can be fatal.”

“Good, ten points to Gryffindor.”

Now, Bellamy is the one smirking at Clarke.

_ It’s on _ .

“You’ll be working with your table partners this lesson, and whichever team brews the best Felix Felicis potion will be able to keep their vile,” Pike instructs. “The brew time is roughly six months, so just in time for the Quidditch Cup Championship.”

Clarke sends a look over to Raven. Not that Slytherin needs the luck, because she’s trained her team well, but being able to keep the vile and use it in the Championship? Slytherin would have it in the bag.

“We need that vile,” Raven mutters under her breath. Clarke nods.

“Open your books up to page four-hundred,”

The class opens their books and goes over all their ingredients and how to add them to their cauldron. Clarke and Raven head over to the supply cupboard to retrieve the ingredients and emerge with their arms full.

Once Clarke sets everything down, she notices a piece of folded paper on her side of the table. 

She opens it up as Raven takes a peak over her shoulder to see an animated drawing of her and Raven’s cauldron bursting into flames. 

“Real funny, Blake!” Raven shouts as she organizes their ingredients. 

Crumbling the piece of paper, Clarke shoots them a glare. “Maybe if you spent as much energy in Quidditch as you do in doodling, you wouldn’t need liquid luck to win the Cup.”

Bellamy barks out a laugh. “Is that so, Griffin? We’ll see at the end of term,”

The rest of the class is spent like that; Bellamy and Clarke taunting each other from their respective tables as they try to brew the most accurate batch of Felix Felicis.

It’s a thing now, the playful banter, and Clarke isn’t sure what to make of it. They heckle each other as they pass by one another to their classes, she captured him in a giant bubble by casting the ebublio jinx during one of Gryffindor’s Quidditch practices, and he even switched out her daily morning coffee for some expired pumpkin juice. 

Bellamy also has started popping up more when she hangs out with her friends. Somehow, without Clarke even realizing it, she and Bellamy became  _ sort of _ friends, merely by convenience. 

It’s enough for her to notice when Bellamy has been absent in their shared classes for the past two days. 

Her friends notice her noticing Bellamy’s absence.

“He isn’t coming to class, Griffin,” Miller mutters, taking his notes for Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Clarke blinks at him. “Who isn’t coming?” she asks innocently.

Miller just rolls his eyes. “Blake,” he clarifies. “He won’t be in any classes today.”

She’s about to ask why until Professor Diyoza starts their lesson on nonverbal magic. She can’t help to feel a little disappointed by this information, she kind of got used to the taunting. Maybe even looked forward to it a bit.

* * *

Clarke is on her way to the dungeons after a long Quidditch practice.

She’s tired, sore, and sweaty. She’s been looking forward to taking a shower and some light revision before bed for a while, especially after that disastrous practice. 

She sighs to herself and picks up the pace as she recalls all the things they need to work on next practice; Drax being too aggressive, Echo being a quaffle hog, Atom-

“Clarke!”

She snaps out of her mental checklist to see that Lincoln is running towards her, which is strange since she’s almost at the dungeons and the Hufflepuff common room is near the kitchens.

“Lincoln?” she asks. “What are you doing over here?”

He catches up to her, slightly out of breath, and gives her a serious look. “Have you seen Bellamy?”

She gives him a strange look. “No, he hasn’t been in class all day and I haven’t seen him. Why?”

He sighs and pinches his nose. “Look, I can’t find any of his other friends so I was hoping you could go find him,”

She gives him a quizzical look. “We aren’t really friends,” she starts. “Why do I need to go find him?”

He shakes his head. “It isn’t my story to tell, I just need someone to make sure if he’s okay.”

_ If _ he’s okay?

“Wait-”

Before she can get another word out, Lincoln takes off in the direction from where he came just from. 

Clarke just kind of stands there, because… what? How is Clarke supposed to know where Bellamy would be? Yes, they were becoming friends, but she still considers him an acquaintance and definitely does not know where his whereabouts would be.

_ Okay, okay - where do typical Gryffindors hang out? _

He obviously won’t be in his common room, because that’s probably the first place Lincoln checked.

Bellamy’s a huge nerd, that she knows, so her first stop on the ‘Where’s Bellamy?’ tour is the library. She’s hoping to Merlin that he’s in there because those staircases are a bitch to maneuver. 

She enters the library and to her dismay - it’s packed with students. 

“Come  _ on _ ,” she groans to herself as she starts to weave in and out through the bookcases. “Bellamy!” 

She’s been looking for him for at least ten minutes before she sighs in defeat. The library is way to big for her to find him on her own.

“Bellamy!” she whisper-shouts as her last and final attempt. 

Nothing.

“Okay,” she says to herself as she starts to leave the library. If he really is there, she’ll have to recruit some of their other friends to find him.

Her next stop is the Astronomy Tower. She’s ninety-nine percent sure Bellamy loves astronomy class and if she were him, the Tower would be a great place to get away from everyone. 

As she climbs the thousands of steps to get to the Tower, she notices that it’s completely quiet. Like, eerily quiet. That can mean one of two things; that Bellamy is here being quiet so he won’t be found or that he isn’t here and Clarke is wasting her time.

She inhales sharply, it’s the latter.

At this point, she’s getting cranky. She had a long day, a horrible Quidditch practice, and now she’s wasting her night away looking for a rogue Bellamy Blake who she isn’t even friends with. All she wanted to do was take a shower and get some sleep.

She’s half tempted to go back to the dungeons and tell Raven or Emori about the situation and have them help her, but all of this searching made her hungry. 

She leaves the Astronomy Tower towards the Great Hall, hoping that Wells is in the Hufflepuff common room and can sneak her some food from the kitchens and maybe even help with the Bellamy situation.

As she enters the Great Hall, it’s quiet. Which is never the case in all of Clarke’s seven years of attending this school. The tables are cleared off, the floating candles are dimly lit, and the ceiling is portraying a beautiful starry night sky. It’s peaceful.

As she walks in between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, she notices a black figure sitting in front of the fireplace. She pauses and looks more closely. They aren’t doing anything, just staring at the fire. The blanket they’ve wrapped themselves in has fallen down on their shoulders, revealing a couple strands of curly hair.

“Bellamy?” she blurts out. 

Bellamy jumps a little, probably lost in thought, and unwraps himself from the blanket. His curls are a mess, he’s pale, and has dark circles under his eyes. He looks a lot like how he did when they were in the hospital wing.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She cries as she marches over to him. “Lincoln came running to me asking about you, he said no one could find you. What happened?”

Bellamy just rolls his eyes as he wraps the blanket around him again and faces the fire. “Nothing, Griffin. I’m fine.”

She scoffs. “Is that why you look like shit and have been skipping classes?”

No response.

“Bellamy,”

He just continues to stare at the fire.

“Well, if you won’t talk to me do you want me to get Miller? Octavia? Murphy?”

“I just want to be alone.”

Clarke deflates. Normally, she would be more than happy to leave him alone, but something in her gut is telling her to stay. That he needs someone.

“I’ll just sit in silence with you, then,” she says as she hops onto the table next to him.

Neither of them talks for a while, and normally that would be awkward but it’s kind of relaxing. The only sounds are the crackling of the fire and the faint footsteps of the other students outside of the Great Hall. 

It’s been about ten minutes of silence now, and Clarke is leaning back on her hands, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the fire before it’s broken.

“My mom died a couple of days ago.”

With this, she sits up and looks at him. He’s still just looking at the fire, but up close she can see the dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

She doesn’t know what to say in this situation, because she mainly doesn’t know how Bellamy handles emotions, or him at all really.

What she doesn’t mean to say is, “That really sucks.”

And that’s exactly what she says.

Her eyes go wide and she freezes, and she’s about to apologize profusely until Bellamy snorts out a laugh.

“Yeah, it does suck,” he says while he starts to laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke apologizes, but continues to laugh as well. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything,” he shrugs. “I wasn’t very close with her.”

Clarke nods, thinking about her estranged relationship with her mother. He still looks so sad though, but Clarke thinks of a way to cheer him up.

She grabs her wand out of her pocket and chants, “ _ Accio firewhiskey _ .”

One of the perks of being friends with Murphy is that he always seems to have a constant stash of alcohol under his bed and likes to give out flasks for Christmas.

“What are you doing with that?” Bellamy asks as he looks at her wand.

“You’ll see,” she grins at him. In no time, the flask with a princess crown she keeps under her bed is zooming into the Great Hall and into her hand. 

He snorts. “Firewhiskey? Really?”

“It’s what helped me get over my dad,” she shrugs. Uncapping the flask, she takes a sip, grimacing at the taste. She offers the flask to Bellamy with a slightly arched brow.

He studies it, then smirks. “Blishen’s,” he notes as he takes a big gulp of the drink. “Not too bad, Griffin.”

Clarke shrugs. “You can thank Murphy for it.”

“How does he even get this stuff?”

Murphy is notorious for always having delicacies stashed somewhere in his room and never reveals how he obtains them. “Do you really want to know?”

Bellamy snorts. “Yeah, no, not really.”

That’s the last of that conversation and how the spend the next few minutes are spent, wordlessly passing the flask back and forth from each other. It’s pretty calming, to just sit in front of a fire in a quiet Great Hall with some stolen alcohol. It’s almost peaceful.

Clarke’s feeling pretty toasty, from the fire and the firewhiskey, and she keeps nodding off before Bellamy interrupts the silence.

“She wasn’t really a bad mom, just pretty neglectful at times. I think she loved us,” he said lowly. “She’s even the one who got me into Greek mythology.”

“She sounded like a really good mom”

“Sometimes,” he nodded. “I was the one who had to raise Octavia because she wasn’t there. She was never there.”

Clarke doesn’t really know how to respond. Her and Bellamy literally just started to tolerate each other, and now there’s this situation. He needs to talk to someone, and she could easily just ran and grab Miller or Murphy or even Monty, but she has this feeling in her gut that’s telling her to stay and to help him. 

So she helps him the best way that helped her when her father died - sharing the burden.

“You know,” she begins as she adjusts herself on the table. “My dad died around three years ago, so I know what it’s like to lose a parent and I know how frustrating it is when people say they’re sorry.”

He nods in response. “How did he die?”

Normally, Clarke isn’t one to open up about how her father died, especially to people who she isn’t really friends with. It’s different this time, though, she feels that she can open up to Bellamy for some strange reason. 

“I think the muggle name for it is ‘leukemia.’ He was diagnosed during a check-up. A malicious tumor. The changes weren’t big. He got more tired and eventually didn’t get out of bed. Mom tried everything she could. Well, no she didn’t. Every  _ magical  _ thing she could, since those are the only things worth trying,” Clarke scoffs, biting out the last words.

“What happened next?” Bellamy says, silently offering support, making sure she knows he’s there.

“I, uh, tried to convince my mom to at least give radiation a chance. She kept saying that it was a waste of time and that he didn’t have much of it left. It was bullshit, of course, she’s just an elitist, but I couldn’t decide anything. He eventually got worse and…” Clarke trails off, gesturing to effectively mean that  _ he died.  _ “I blamed her for a long while. I guess I still do. If she just got her head out of her ass for one second–” Her words cut off there, throat tightening while her eyes burn with unshed tears.

A weight over her shoulders brings her back to the present. It takes her a moment before she realizes that it’s Bellamy’s arm, holding her snug.

Even now, three years later, her and her mother are not on good terms. 

Again, silence fell between them. 

Clarke shoots up as a thought shoots through her mind. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I asked right?” Bellamy smiles softly. Clarke finds herself smiling back before she can stop it, happy in their bubble. Up close, she notices his freckles, illuminated by the warm firelight. Reluctant to break the newfound comfort she finds with Bellamy, she asks the question that has been weighing on her mind.

“What are you and Octavia gonna do now?”

He exhales, sharp and tired. “Now,” he says pinching the bridge of his nose, “not only do I have to plan her funeral and look after O, but I have to miss a week's worth of classes.”

“God,” Clarke groans, “good luck catching up, especially with Indra.”

“I know, it’s going to be impossible, especially with the way Miller takes notes.”

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in Clarke’s head.

“I’ll make copies of my notes!” she exclaimed happily. “I promise I take really good ones.”

It may be the all the firewhiskey she drank, or her revelation that Bellamy isn’t  _ too _ bad, but all she wants to do right now is help him any way that she can.

He looks at her cautiously. “You don’t mind?”

She shakes her head hastily. “Not at all, I’d be happy to help.”

Bellamy gives her this soft smile that makes her feel warm inside, which is new. This is all new. She doesn’t lend anyone her notes, especially to Bellamy, her rival in all aspects of life. She’s also barely told Raven about her dad, she has no idea why she opened up to Bellamy. She also has no idea why Bellamy intrusted her about his mother and listened to her own story. This is new territory, and Clarke doesn’t know how to proceed.

So she does what Clarke does best - deflects.

“Well,” she claps her hands and jumps off the table. “We’ve been out here for a while, we should both go get some rest, yeah?”

Bellamy gets off the table and wordlessly reaches for her. His arms wrap around her in a loose hug and mumbles out a ‘thank you’ before he walks out of the Great Hall. 

Just like that, he’s gone.

And Clarke is even more confused now. She shakes her head, as to clear it, and heads back to the dungeons. It was a weird, strange night, and sleep did not come easy.

* * *

It’s been about three days since not only the Talk, but the Blake’s departure back home, and Clarke finds herself missing Bellamy. For three days, she hasn’t had anyone to banter with, and it’s making her start to feel antsy. There’s really no one else she can mess with the way she does Bellamy - sure she would love to rip Murphy a new one, but she doesn’t want to offend Emori. Miller barely speaks a sentence a day, Monty is too pure and innocent, Jasper never stops talking for her to get a word in, Harper would take her too seriously, Wells is too nice and wouldn’t say anything back, and Emori and Raven would hex her. There’s no winning for Clarke. 

So, in a way, it’s a relief when Miller receives an owl from Bellamy letting the gang know about the details of Aurora’s funeral. 

“Looks like you get to see loverboy, soon.” Raven quips as she sits down across from Clarke during dinner.

“What?” Clarke stammers as spills a little of the tomato soup she was eating on her blouse. “Who’re you talking about?”

Raven rolls her eyes as she loads her plate up with rolls. “Bellamy. Don’t think I didn’t recognize you not only taking the most detailed notes I’ve ever seen, but you always look over at the Gryffindors, like you’re trying to see him.”

Clarke scoffs at this ridiculous and totally not true information. “Are you delusional? I simply take pride in my note taking.”

Raven just stares at her.

Clarke stares back. 

Their staring contest is interrupted by Emori who plops down next to Raven. “What are you two doing?”

“Trying to break Griffin.”

Emori nods to herself as she loads up her plate. “About?”

“Nothing,” Clarke answers briskly. There’s no way she’s going to let Raven share her assumptions with Emori.

Until Raven and Emori share a look. 

Emori grins at Clarke from across the table. “This wouldn’t have to do with a curly-haired Gryffindor, would it?” 

Clarke groans. “You too?”

“Clarke, your side glances in Potions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone.”

“I do not look for him!”

“I counted at least six times yesterday,” Raven interjects as she shoves bread into her mouth.

“I think you’ve made Miller paranoid in Potions.”

“I’m just...worried about him, that’s all,” Clarke mumbles. 

They both snort in response. Whatever. 

So what if she glances to her left every now and then during Potions class, or writes down every word their professors say during their shared classes, or offers alternative explanations in the margins in case he doesn’t understand. She’s not only a good academic, but she’s a good person. Anyone would do this, she’s sure of it.

The funeral comes and goes. It was a small, private affair as Aurora didn’t really make any friends in her time. Many of the guests came in to support Bellamy and Octavia, which was really nice, Clarke supposes. Much to Raven and Emori’s delight, she and Bellamy may have...bonded some more.

_ Clarke was looking for Bellamy to hand him his notes, so he could catch up on his subjects as soon as possible. Totally not looking for a reason to seek him out, no, not at all. _

_ After a couple minutes of wandering out the funeral home, she finally finds him in a small room off of the main entrance. _

_ “What’re you doing in here?” she asked as she entered the room. _

_ He was standing in front of a mirror, wearing a suit that, dare she think, made him look good. _

_ “Practicing,” he grumbled out.  _

_ Clarke knew when Bellamy was tense, as he always is before a Quidditch match. His shoulders are scrunched up, his jaw continuously ticks, and he’s always short with people. _

_ “For the eulogy? You’re gonna do great, I’ve heard your pep talks before.” _

_ He grunts in response. _

_ “Well, I just came by to drop this off,” she says as she places the folder with her notes in it on a chair. “But seriously, you shouldn’t stress about this, we’re all here for you.” _

_ With that, she turns to leave and is almost out of the room when she hears him laugh. _

_ “You seriously brought me notes from class?” _

_ She turns around and sees him smirking down at the notes. “Well, you can never start revising too early,” she justifies.  _

_ She smoothes the edges of her black dress down, suddenly feeling self-conscience. Who brings someone class notes on the day of his mothers wake? She goes to leave the room again before she makes an even bigger fool of herself, but Bellamy gently grabs her wrist to stop her from leaving. _

_ “This is great,” he says, a spark in his eye. “I really appreciate the double explanations.” _

_ His hand moves down from her wrist to her hand as he grabs it, and Clarke freezes a little. _

_ “This is really nice,” he continues. “Thank you.” _

_ And in that moment, one thing was extremely clear to Clarke: she would literally do anything to keep Bellamy Blake looking at her like he is right now. _

So, in the span of one day, Clarke attended a funeral and fell for Bellamy Blake. An awesome start to her last year at Hogwarts.

Clarke was determined to not let that bother her and tried to pay as little attention as she could to the situation. She should have known it wouldn’t have been that easy.

The day after the gang returned from the funeral, minus the Blake’s, she received an owl from Bellamy letting her know that he and Octavia were going to take a few more days off and if she could keep taking the ‘greatly detailed’ notes for him. 

Clarke responded with her own owl, saying that if he didn’t come back soon that the House Cup would totally be Slytherins and  _ of course _ she would take notes for him. It continued like that for the rest of the week, playful banter between the two through letters. She knew she wasn’t helping her situation by responding and keeping it going, but she couldn’t help it.

The Blake’s were absent for an extra three days, and now it was the weekend. Her, Raven, Emori, Murphy, and Monty were all hanging out in the Great Hall when the idea hit her.

“Guys!” she yelled to the group.

Murphy choked on his pumpkin juice, resulting in it to spill all over his shirt. “Fucking shit, Griffin.”

“Sorry,” Clarke dismisses. “We should throw the Blake’s a welcome back party! We can use the room of requirement, Murphy could get us some drinks, and Wells can sneak some snacks.”

She totally ignores the knowing looks that Raven and Emori send her way, because she doesn’t need their judgement right now. Nonetheless, the whole gang agrees that a welcome back party is a good idea, so they get to planning. 

* * *

The Blake’s return on Monday, which isn’t the ideal time to throw a party, but it’s too late now. The room of requirement is all set, Murphy somehow obtained not only firewhiskey but butterbeer as well, and Wells brought snacks. 

Clarke casts  _ incendio  _ to light the fireplace to make the space feel warmer, Raven and Shaw are hanging a ‘Welcome back!’ banner, Emori is organizing all the snacks and drinks on the table, and the rest of their friends are just talking amongst themselves. It’s safe to say that they’re more than ready for the party.

“Hey dickwads, shut the flying fuck up! The Blakes are coming,” Murphy announced, appearing out of seemingly thin air.

“How do you know this?” Raven asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

“He has his ways,” Emori chips in, sharing an indecipherable look with Murphy.

“Positions!” Jasper screeches, vaulting a sofa and ducking behind it, dragging Monty and Harper with him. 

There’s a brief scuffle as everyone hides in their respective spots, making sure they’re covered and hidden from plain view. 

Everyone except for Lincoln.

The door opens, and Octavia and Bellamy step into the room, Miller ushering them in. They stop abruptly at the sight of Lincoln, a long shadow casted by the dim glow of firelight.

“Uh, Lincoln?” Bellamy starts, steps faltering.

“Surprise!” Everyone choruses, jumping out and rushing to greet them. Once the surprise wears off, Octavia bursts into action, running to Lincoln and thanking people as she went. Bellamy looked uncomfortable but grateful nonetheless with all the attention on him.

Grabbing a cup of butterbeer, she sidles up to Bellamy, offering it up to him. “It looks like you need a drink,” she says, grinning.

“Looks like you need one too, Princess,” he smirks nodding at her now empty hands.

As she waits for Bellamy to return with her drink, she watches the party unfold as her friends mingle together. It brings her a sense of peace, watching everybody laugh and enjoy each other’s company. 

She’s broken out of her reverie by Bellamy handing her a drink, a sheepish look on his face. “Jasper keeps insisting I play darts with him. I swear he’s like a puppy when he’s drunk.”

Clarke snorts, taking a sip of her butterbeer. “Yeah, I know how he gets. If you don't go he’ll probably start an uprising.”

“We better not let that happen,” Bellamy says. “I better go do my civic duty,” he winks. Quick as a flash, he’s off to play darts.

Clarke stands there, stunned and a little flustered. Bellamy has flirted with her before, sure, but that didn't seem genuine. Not like just now.

“I need another drink,” she mutters, making a beeline for Murphy’s stash.

At the table with the butterbeer, Wells approaches her. “How’s it going, Griffin?”

“I think Bellamy actually just flirted with me,” Clarke says, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.

“I predicted this would happen.”

“How?”

“I opened up my third eye.”

She spends the next hour catching up with Wells about the past couple of weeks. As the conversation winds down, she starts searching the crowd for Bellamy. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees a familiar mop of curls on the couch by the fireplace. Excusing herself, she grabs a bottle of water and heads over to him.

She sits down next to a clearly drunk Bellamy Blake. “Hey–”

“Medusa is painted as a monster but what could Athena do? One of her most devoted followers was raped in a temple and everyone thought it was her fault for defiling it but she knew it was Poseidon’s fault. It was all his fault. Him and his stupid dick,” Bellamy complains, slowly sinking down with each word until his head was in Clarke’s lap.

“Uh–”

“And it was a gift! Now she could turn whoever wanted to hurt her into stone! And she had unborn children!” 

As she listens to Bellamy’s continuous rant, she absentmindedly starts twirling his curls between her fingers. As she’s twirling, she wonders if it’s as soft as it looks. Before she can contemplate this, his hand comes up to hers and presses firmly against his hair.

“Feels nice,” he murmurs, breath evening out.

Clarke watches the crease between his eyebrows smooth out as he drifts off to sleep.

_ I could get used to this. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is so fun to write and I'm so glad ya'll are enjoying it. HUMONGOUS shoutout to May aka @blvke-bellamy for helping me write and edit this bad boy. Come yell some thoughts at me on tumblr @buckthebarnes !
> 
> Also, leaving kudos and comments fuels the writer in me ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Who doesn't love a nice, angsty Quidditch match? Come yell your thoughts at me on tumblr (@buckthebarnes).
> 
> Also, leaving comments and kudos helps the writing process go faster. ;)


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